Why had he let her call all the shots? A few more spankings like the one he administered to her that day might have brought forth a 'come to Jesus' moment. He should have been much firmer with her regarding her behavior, insisting she give up her job. She could watch and listen for the killer just as easily serving drinks downstairs where he could have kept a close eye on her. Why hadn't he insisted on that?
What a fool he was in thinking a little distance would cool his feelings for her. She was everything he wanted in a woman. Beautiful, smart, kind, funny, generous, she was adventurous in bed and she smelled delicious. On the negative side she was stubborn… no determined. Yes, that sounded better. And loyal; he'd never met a woman who was more so. Not to him of course, she felt no sense of loyalty to him, but to her father. Her steadfastness in finding his killer was a credit to her, and Jasper had no doubt were she to agree to marry him, she would show him that same loyalty.
Clem was honest, sometimes painfully so, but still, it was a sign of good character. All in all, she was damned near perfect but for her sassy mouth, no wait, that was wit. She was witty which sounded much more acceptable.
Truly the only real flaw she had was she'd decided to become a whore and really, was that her fault? No it was not! Circumstances had forced her into it and it was his duty, no an obligation he owed all womanhood, to assist her in her hour of need. And what had he done; deserted her. He should be ashamed.
A man, a real man deserving of her love and devotion would hightail it back to Culpepper Cove and stand by her come what may. At the very least he could give her a little more time to accomplish her 'mission' before putting that paddle to good use and convincing her to marry him. Spanking her daily would be overstepping the civilized boundaries of such things, but he wasn't above resorting to that, if need be. After all, he could spend the rest of his life making it up to her.
Pouring a glass of brandy, Jasper smiled. Yes, at first light he would head back to Culpepper Cove and show her he was made of sterner stuff than she imagined. Maybe she even missed him?
Chapter Thirteen
"I've heard a lot of talk about the new girl," the man said as Clem led him upstairs. "Figured it was time I came and found out what all the fuss was about."
"I'm glad you did." Pasting a smile on her face, she indicated the door to her room. You have no idea how glad. I've been waiting for you. Her heart was pounding so hard she was afraid he'd hear it, her hands so sweaty she feared they would slip off the doorknob. "Go ahead in Mr. White. I'll just be a moment. I want to freshen up."
"Yes, you do that. From what I hear you'll be worth the wait."
"I hope so. Sometimes waiting makes everything that much sweeter," she drawled.
In the washroom, she leaned on the sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror. It would be over soon, she realized. Soon she could leave Culpepper Cove behind her. Most likely there wouldn't be time to say goodbye to Jewel and the others. Life on the lam meant you kept moving, never staying long in one place, never making friends. It was a lonely existence but one she was ready for, especially now that Jasper was gone.
The annoying man had finally given up on her and left town. Too bad he hadn't waited a few more days. At least then he'd know the truth about her. It was too late now. She never got to whisper those words in his ear, never told him she was going to have his child, never told him she was delighted, and never told him she loved him.
Wiping away a tear, she splashed cold water on her face and pinched her cheeks. It wouldn't do to look wan. Her entire future depended on what happened in the next few minutes. Either Carl White would sign a confession admitting he'd murdered her father or he'd be dead and she'd be on her way to Mexico. Thank God she had money.
He looked like such a harmless man, slightly overweight, rosy cheeks, the kind of man who would have a lot of friends. Amiable, she thought absently. Could she kill him? Could she take a life in cold blood? The Lord said an eye for an eye, but was that her right? Carl White hadn't shown her father one ounce of mercy. He'd driven what he thought was a penniless young boy off the land that was rightfully his. Yes, damn it to hell, she could kill him if she had to. Her reflection showed a pretty young girl whose brown eyes were cold, purposeful. Drying her hands, she walked stiffly to her room.
"So, they call you Crystal," he remarked, taking off his gun belt.
"Yes, they do. Here, I'll take that for you," she offered sweetly, holding out her hand.
He hesitated before handing it over and she clamped her lips closed on her sigh of relief when he finally did. Going to the door, she hung it on a hook on the back. "All the girls here have the name of a gem." Walking to her dressing table she began to unfasten her dress.
"Why Crystal?" he inquired conversationally as he sat on the bed and toed off his boots.